


in a daze now (pull the trigger)

by empathieves



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Fingerfucking, Hypersensitivity, Listen this fic is just Spencer giving himself some self love, Masturbation, Mentions of Moreid, Other, Sex Toys, after being stuck in a room with Morgan for a week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 22:00:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12591440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empathieves/pseuds/empathieves
Summary: Reid unwinds by himself after a case.





	in a daze now (pull the trigger)

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I've been thinking about Reid + self love for a while now, so here it is. May post a Moreid follow up? Who knows.

The moment he got in the door of his apartment, he was taking off his clothes.

Reid knew that the others had gone out for drinks, celebrating a case well solved with no casualties, and sure it sounded fun, but he’d gone the whole damn week without touching himself once because he’d been rooming with Morgan and he actually could not take it anymore. He was wired, thrumming with energy, the rush of having done his job well and having saved lives pulsing under his skin. He needed to do something, _anything_ , to burn off the energy and seeing as how he was sexually frustrated anyway this seemed like the best way to go about it.

By the time he made it to his bed he was naked, fever hot and a little shaky. Ordinarily he’d be quick, get it out of his system and then shower and collapse, but he’d been stuck in a little room with Morgan in the bed across from him barely a foot away for a _week_. It was getting harder and harder for Reid not to look at Morgan, to stop his feelings from showing in his face, to be circumspect and discrete with the depth of his infatuation for the man, and all those nights pretending not to be intimately aware of Morgan _right there_ had not been helpful.

So he was going to take it slowly, because he needed to. He wants to appreciate this, the burden of hypersensitivity more like a blessing in the safety of his own bedroom. He wants to draw it out, torture himself a little, make the act a little more like fucking than fulfilling a basic biological need.

He draws his hands up his own thighs, softly, relaxes a little more into the bed. Brings his hands up, strokes over his stomach, his nipples, up to his collarbones and then fluttering back down to brush past his ribs. He feels himself begin to harden against his leg, feels himself begin to flush. This will never not feel utterly decadent to him. The act of touching himself is always like this, always mingled with the thrill of being exposed to the air, the luxuriousness of how goddamn sensitive his skin is, with how even the shift of a breeze against him feels like a touch.

He makes a few more passes, draws his fingers across his skin, makes little patterns and curlicues with his fingernails. He’s shivering now, less with cold and more with anticipation, because he loves the build up. The tease is always worth it.

When he finally does touch himself properly it’s not to stroke his cock, but to slip his fingers back to his ass, just brushing the rim for now. He keeps lube in his bedside table, and he reaches for it now, slicks his fingers generously. He slips one finger, then two, into himself, scissoring them slowly and exhaling with every movement he makes. He rolls his hips into the motion, lets the movement of his body take his fingers deeper, plants his feet so that he can get a better angle. There’s a deep stretch in the muscles of his legs, but it feels good. He sighs as he rolls his hips again, pauses, slides another finger into himself, twists them until he brushes his prostate. He knows his own body so well by now that it’s hardly a chore to get himself into a comfortable rhythm, to goad himself closer and closer to the edge. His breathing speeds up, his breath coming out now on moans rather than simple exhales, and just as he’s about to come he stops. Backs himself up from the edge until he’s no longer at risk of coming. Takes his fingers out and reaches for a dildo, a decent size but nothing unmanageable for how he’s prepped, and once he’s lubed it up enough he gets up on his knees, braces himself above it and bears down, takes it in one swift downward motion. He keeps going like that for a little, pulling himself off and then rolling his hips back onto the toy, until he’s shaking and he topples forward, pressing his face into the soft sheets.

He keeps his hand where it is on the base of the toy, except that now he starts to actually fuck himself with it in earnest instead of just bracing it for his body to rock down onto. He starts off slowly, his other hand brushing his hip, his nipples, tugging at his own hair. Eventually he can’t actually help himself and he speeds up, needing more, his mouth open and gasping against the sheets, his toes curling and his hand falling from his hair to the bed. It’s so good, so deep and perfect. He feels full and a little giddy, almost drunk, because after a week of nothing this is absolute perfection, the best way to wind down even if right now he’s wound _up._ He can feel himself getting closer, closer, the toy giving him something to clench down on when it gets too intense, and when he comes he bites into his own arm, bracing himself on it, shuddering through the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever experienced.

He manages not to just pass out then and there, cleans himself up and showers and changes the sheets. He collapses into bed and sleeps for a solid ten hours, and when he turns up for work the next day every muscle he has is burning with exertion and he’s very conscious of where his shirtsleeve covers the impressions of his own teeth in his arm.

Morgan asks him in the elevator if he had worked out or something after getting home, because he’s walking a little funny.

Reid manages not to burst into laughter, but only just.


End file.
